The Epiphany of a King and of a Father
by Windimere Wellen
Summary: In which Uther discovers that his son is in love with a servant - and she is in love with him.
1. Chapter 1

A little adventure into "what if" Uther realized Arthur and Gwen were and in love – and what if he had a heart after all.

This will be a multi-chapter fic... Your thoughts are appreciated.

- Lady Winter

* * *

Uther Pendragon, King of the mighty kingdom of Camelot, paced restlessly in his study. His robes swished around his legs, making a soft whispering noise and he glanced again towards the window that was opened slightly to allow a soft breeze to stir the room.

There were dozens of things the King should have been doing that moment. He had several new addendums to the tax laws to consider and a list of issues the court had brought to him to make judgment over, but he simply couldn't focus on them. His mind wandered because Camelot's crown prince was late.

It was hard to pinpoint an exact time of return when Arthur and his knights rode out on patrol, and even more difficult when they left on a specific errand as they had this morning. Despite the lack of normally being able to say that a party was not on schedule, Uther knew in his heart that Arthur and his men were definitively late.

The Prince, six of his best knights, and his manservant Merlin had set out very early, before most of the slumbering kingdom was awake, to deal with a band of mercenaries that were reported to have set up camp in one of the gullies not too far from Camelot.

As the sun crept towards the horizon, marking it's journey towards night, and Uther felt a familiar tingle of fear in his stomach as he wondered whether or not he'd sent his only son to his death. It wasn't the first time he'd suffered such discomfort, and if Arthur were to return, it would not be the last. Such was Uther's burden – to send his son into danger, all to prove that he was a warrior and a man fit to lead a kingdom in war. It was what Uther often referred to as a necessary evil, but in the waiting hours, he could only admit to himself that what he felt was the evil.

The court and the castle's staff always assumed that Uther had no care when Arthur went off on one of his little forays, and that the King locked himself away in his study without another thought of the blond prince, but Uther sequestered himself there, on the south side of the castle because with the windows open, he was able to hear the horses on the flagstone when the hunting or war parties would return. There, in his study, he could race to the window, unobserved in his obvious weakness to look down into the courtyard to see if his child was safe.

This day was no different and Uther waited impatiently to hear the sounds of horses, but when none came, he forced himself to sit. Idly, he grasped a sheet of fine paper and tried to focus on the list of grievances that Sir Allen had against Lord Malfrey. Though he read the words, his mind comprehended none of them, but his impatience finally came to an end when he heard the clatter of hooves below and the normally graceful King knocked over his chair in his urgency to reach the window.

He reached the window in time to hear the closest guards hailing Arthur and his men and his eyes searched out his son.

And then his stomach dropped into his knees. All of the knights were accounted for, but they had clearly been in a battle. Their armor was tarnished, and their horses were splattered with mud and dried blood. It was Arthur who drew his attention.

His son was sitting upright on his favorite horse, but he was listing to one side, an arm wrapped protectively around his chest and blood streaked his armor. Uther wanted to take better stock of the young man, but he couldn't see well enough and in a moment, he dashed for the door.

He received a few frightened and confused looks as he rushed through the castle halls, his robes billowing behind him and he cursed his need of finery. Soon enough though, he was through the outer doors and he hurried down the steps, two at a time to reach his son.

Arthur's eyes were half lidded as his manservant, who was clutching his left arm tightly to his own chest as if it were broken, was trying to convince his master to wait to dismount until help arrived.

"Arthur! What has happened? My son!" Uther called out as his feet finally reached the scene.

At the sound of his voice, Arthur's eyes focused and he turned his head towards the sound, and Uther could see an ugly bruise on the right side of his face, stretching from his temple to his son's strong jaw line. He had dried blood in his hair and despite the attempt at clarity, he still looked disoriented.

"My Lord," he responded, trying to sound crisp and Uther was impressed with his son's fortitude. Despite obviously being injured, Arthur put on a brave face for his men and never lost his decorum. "The mercenaries have been taken care of," he said proudly. "Your knights have performed with bravery."

"You've all done well Arthur, now tell me what's happened to you," Uther insisted as the boy swayed dangerously. Merlin moved instantly closer to his master's horse, as if with his bad arm, he'd be able to catch Arthur if he fell.

"Just a tangle with their leader…" Arthur responded dryly, his face pale and Uther reached up and placed strong hands on his son.

"You, boy," he said, summoning Arthur's manservant who was watching his master with trepidation. "Find out what's keeping Gaius," he ordered even as Arthur lost his battle with pride and slipped sideways in his saddle. Only Uther's grip on him kept the Prince from falling straight off the horse.

As Merlin raced off, Uther eased Arthur off his horse, realizing just how heavy the young man had become.

"I'm fine father…" Arthur protested quietly, but Uther caught the sharp intake of breath that indicated his son was in pain.

"Of course you are," Uther responded and glanced over his shoulder wildly for his court physician, wondering where the man could be. Instead of seeing Gaius though, he saw one of the handmaidens – Guinivere, Morgana's maid – rushing through one of the dark tunnels, a small bag in hand, her skirts tangling around her legs. He noted in some surprise there was fear in her eyes, which were riveted on his son, and he recalled briefly that she'd been training with the healer.

"Really father…" Arthur tried to assure, but was cut off when Gwen arrived, frantic eyes roving over his body, and she opened her mouth to speak, then seemed to see Uther for the first time and stared in shock, as if she'd just been about to commit treason.

Uther couldn't help but stare at her for a moment, trying to figure out if he'd missed something.

Instead, she began to speak so rapidly, that at first he had a hard time following her. "Sire…I came as quickly as I could – Gaius sent me on ahead of him, he's gathering some more things…" she said quickly. "What's happened," she said, turning to Arthur, her eyes only for him.

Arthur had a strange look in his eyes as he looked down at her, one that Uther could almost interpret as being that he couldn't have been more happy to see anyone than the servant standing in front of him.

"It's nothing to worry about," the prince said, swaying dangerously. "Just a flesh wound," he added at the doubtful look on the maid's face.

"Let me see," she urged, reaching up with a strange sort of familiarity to try to pry his gloved hand away from the source of the blood and Uther noted the increased trembling that wracked Arthur's limbs.

It looked as if Arthur were about to protest when suddenly and without any warning, his legs gave out and he fell. The servant gasped and Uther had to move quickly to keep Arthur's head from striking the flagstone, himself ending up in a very un-King-like heap on the ground, cradling his son.

"What's happened?" he demanded as the maid fell to her knees, reaching out to check for signs of life, her dark skin paling in strange manner. She sat back on her heels a moment later, a look of worry on her face.

"He's fainted, my Lord – we must get him to Gaius immediately," she responded, glancing around to find all of the Arthur's men staring down in worry. Uther ignored them, not at all surprised by their concern – Arthur inspired a great deal of loyalty and love amongst his people, including his knights.

He didn't hesitate, and quickly he lifted Arthur off the ground, pulling his son tight against him, his chest tightening as he remembered the last time he'd been forced to carry Arthur like this – after he'd been bitten by the Questing Beast. Unbidden, the fear and despair that he'd felt came rushing back, and Uther had to fight to keep the knights and servants that had gathered from seeing the tears wetting his eyes.

"Clear the way!" he roared instead, drowning his fear in anger. "And you," he said meanly to the serving girl – "Tell Gaius he'd better be prepared and to have him report to Arthur's rooms immediately."

The order sent the girl scampering off ahead of him as he bore his son's weight, armour and all, into the castle. The climb to Arthur's room seemed to take forever as Uther's imagination played through all sorts of scenarios about what kind of wound was hiding under the chain-mail and the breast-plate his son wore. His legs were shaking by the time he finally reached his son's heavy wooden door, and as he wondered how he was going to open it with his son held carefully in his arms, it was flung open by Merlin, using his good arm to do the task.

Uther didn't want to dwell on it at that moment, but Merlin was a most valuable servant and was beyond loyal to Arthur. Of course, as King, he could never admit that, and the boy was still a bumbling, clumsy idiot a lot of the time, but he as unfailing in his service to the Prince. And there he was again, clearly wounded, still hovering as Uther slipped through the door, careful not to bang Arthur's head.

Once inside, he saw at once that someone had lit a fire in the great hearth in the room and that Gaius was already there, a small table covered in various medical and healing supplies. He looked up at once when Uther arrived and moved forward, revealing Gwen, who was standing behind him, readying a bowl of warm water.

"Put him on the bed, sire," Gaius said quickly. "I'll need help with his armour."

Uther did as the healer asked, knowing that the only time he'd ever take orders from his old friend was when it came to the health and well being of Arthur or Morgana. Normally, he would have called upon Merlin to help with his master's armour, but the boy was in no shape to assist.

With as much gentleness as he could muster, Uther gently laid his precious son on the bed, not even thinking of the fact that the fine white sheets would be ruined. Immediately, he went to work trying to unfasten and remove all of Arthur's heavy armour, and looked up to find he was being assisted. He was surprised to see Gwen studiously working on the ties that held the armour on, with intimate knowledge of how it worked, and although it surprised him at first, he remembered that her father had been a blacksmith and that no doubt, she had often handled armour before.

In moments, they were pealing away the armour and it took all three of them to lift Arthur up enough to free him from the chain mail that was supposed to protect his body, but there was a good sized whole in the front, slick with blood.

As soon as they had it off, Gaius produced a knife and began to slice away the blue tunic that Arthur had been wearing beneath the armour. The wound beneath was garish. It was a good sized puncture hole right above Arthur's left hip, and it was oozing blood at an alarming rate. The rest of his chest was pockmarked with bruises, but the primary wound was what was most frightening.

Uther's head snapped up, his eyes flying to Merlin. "What happened to him?"

For his part, Merlin looked absolutely devastated. "He said it wasn't that bad…" the man-servant mumbled, and Uther thought he heard the boy says something like "prat" and "I should have stopped that!" but he couldn't be sure. To say the least, the boy looked sticken as he stared at his master's wounds.

"I asked what happened!" the King roared, not meaning to further upset the servant, just simply wanting an answer. Uther had learned long ago that fear in other usually got you what you wanted, and the servant's wide dark eyes focused on him, round as saucers.

"I'm not sure," Merlin admitted. "They outnumbered us, so everything was very confusing, but Arthur…the Prince…" he corrected, "….was tangling with their leader, and I think he had a spear of some sort…"

"That would account for this wound," Gaius affirmed, drawing Uther's attention back to his son.

"How bad is it, Gaius?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound too weak in front of the servants.

"He's lost a lot of blood, sire. How long has he been unconscious?" the old man asked, already at work cleaning up the damaged area, carefully avoiding answering the King's question.

"He fainted in the courtyard," Gwen answered for the king, and Gaius raised an eyebrow.

"Impressive – that's good though. If he managed to stay conscious this long, then that's a good sign. If I can stop the bleeding… But then, there is always the risk of infection," the physician warned. "Merlin, please run down and bring me up some oris root – I'll need it to stem the bleeding," he ordered, and in a flash, the boy was gone.

Uther hovered nearby, clenching his fists as Gwen handed Gaius whatever he asked for. When the King began to pace, the physician cleared his throat.

"Sire, I will need no distractions while I attempt to stop this bleeding. If you wouldn't mind, I can come and find you when I am finished."

Uther stared at him for a moment, and thought he saw the servant girl give Gaius a grateful look, but he couldn't be sure. He wanted to tell Gaius that nothing could tear him from Arthur's side, but that wasn't true if he was honest with himself. As King, he had to at least try to hold some emotional detachment – even if it was his own child, lying there bleeding on the bed.

"Fine, but you will inform me immediately of any changes. Is that understood?" he demanded harshly, clenching his teeth when he imagined bad news.

"Of course, my Lord. I assure you that you will know as soon as I have news, but right now, Prince Arthur needs me."

Uther nodded curtly, and stared the servant girl directly in the eyes, surprised at how evenly she held his gaze, but without a trace of insubordination. "You are to serve Gaius like you serve me, is that understood?" he told her, his voice as sharp as a knife, and she nodded quickly, though he got the distinct feeling her service to Gaius would not be because it was ordered of her.

With one last reluctant look at his son, he stepped forward and hesitantly reached out to push a clump of blood clotted hair out of Arthur's face, but seeing that Gwen was watching him with interest, he snatched his hand back and turned fluidly towards the door, his heart aching with every step he took away from Arthur's bedside. It was times like these that he simply wished he was a father to a son, not a King to a prince.


	2. Chapter 2

Second Installment – a little more of Uther and soon enough, Uther will discover that Arthur and Gwen are in love.

Your thoughts are appreciated.

Windimere Wellen

* * *

Uther Pendragon found himself pacing restlessly in his quarters as the night grew darker. Hours ago, his son, the heir to Camelot, had ridden in from an encounter with bandits, badly wounded. Since leaving Arthur in Gaius' care, the King had heard nothing.

The physician had all but kicked him out for hovering, and Uther had been forced to find something more productive to do, knowing full well that he couldn't show too much weakness. The bane of being a King was to not let on just how badly affected you were by things like your son being injured.

As Uther had anticipated, word had spread quickly through the court that Arthur had been injured. His son had, in the past few years, really built a loyal following. The people had certainly come to love and respect him, and now even the court seemed to truly recognize him as Prince and eventual King whom they would answer too. They spoke of him as fair and just – words Uther knew they never associated with himself except in dutiful lip service. Of course, they still thought Arthur too young and occasionally he heard whispers that they still considered him immature, but Arthur was still young and Uther imagined that it wouldn't be long before they were entirely putty in his hand.

Because of their recently found loyalty and concern for their Prince, Uther had been unsurprised to find about half a dozen of the court and various servants all lining the main hallways around the throne room when Gaius had sent him from Arthur's rooms.

They looked at him expectantly, bowing their heads slightly in respect as he had approached and Uther fought back the urge to simply walk past them. He wasn't in the mood to deal with them at the time, still reeling from seeing the ugly wound that Arthur had incurred.

None the less, his duty was to inform them of Arthur's condition and maintain an air of confidence that his son would be fine. To do any less would be a failure on his part.

He paused at their curious looks and drew his cloak around him.

"The Prince was injured while dealing with the threat of bandits – he was able to defeat them but requires the court physician for a few days. I am sure he will make a full recovery," he told them patiently, steeling his voice to sound convincing. He had to make them believe that Arthur was going to be fine, even if he personally had his own doubts.

Two of the knights had looked at Uther skeptically; having seen the injured Prince, but Uther leveled them with a hard stare and flipped his hand at them dismissively. They probably hated him for acting like he could care less, but he had an important image to uphold. Unwilling to deal anymore with his subjects, Uther continued down the hall, breezing past them in an attempt to escape.

He found himself in his own rooms, on the other side of the castle from Arthur. Inwardly, he wondered why his son had chosen rooms so far away, but told himself it was because Arthur liked the view of the town he had from there.

And then he had waited. And then he had begun to pace.

The hours seemed to stretch and his fire burned low, and a servant dashed in and out to stoke it to keep the sovereign warm as Uther waited impatiently for news on his son. His dinner sat untouched on the table. Fleetingly, he thought of Morgana, off visiting friends of Gorlois' – she didn't even know Arthur was injured.

The thought of Morgana turned Uther's thoughts to the handmaiden – Gwen, he recalled – that served both his ward and who now assisted Gauis in his work. Uther admitted that he rarely paid attention to servants, but ever since he'd had this particular servant's father executed for sorcery, he'd watched her frequently to make sure her loyalties were still clear. He had seen people want revenge before and wanted to be sure that she would not attempt anything – he had even tried to convince Morgana to find a new handmaid, but as usual, his ward bitterly refused.

Slowly, Uther had lost interest in her when she had shown no signs of disloyalty, but he had noted while he'd been watching her that she was a rather good servant. She was never late, she was more than loyal to Morgana, and she seemed to be dedicated to her job. Of course, Uther had also thought that Morgana was too…familiar…with the girl – too friendly, but that hadn't stopped Morgana.

Although he liked to view himself above servants and the notice of them, he was reluctant to admit he had also thought that perhaps the girl and Arthur's servant, Merlin, had fallen in love with each other, but as time wore on, he realized it appeared that they were just friends.

Upon reflection though, Uther realized that despite the fact that Morgana had been missing for some time, he had seen no less of Gwen – in fact she always seemed to be in the right place at the right time – and often not far from Arthur and Merlin.

The King wasn't quite sure why he was thinking about all of this now, except that he'd found her behavior somewhat off when she had breathlessly arrived at Arthur's side in the courtyard, her eyes searching his son in an almost possessive way. Uther frowned. Perhaps the girl fancied his son.

He could certainly understand why. Arthur was certainly born to royalty – he held himself well and Uther was not blind to the fact that his son was handsome. He was always catching the eye of every woman he passed. With blond hair, blue eyes and a strong jaw line, Arthur was fit to be a Prince – and women noticed. Uther had certainly heard the ladies of court and several visiting princesses and ladies comment on his good looks, but Arthur never seemed to take notice except to be cocky regarding their attentions.

So, it would hardly surprise Uther is the servant girl had an inkling of feelings for his son…

Uther sat down in his chair for a moment, thinking. The way Arthur had tried to reassure her in the courtyard seemed odd to him, mostly because that reassurance should have been directed towards Uther himself, not the girl. While thinking about it, Uther also realized that it was odd that Arthur never called her Gwen – he always used her given name – Guinevere. Still, he supposed that Arthur's new mission to "get to know his people" and to "recognize those we lead" could be the reason for his familiarity with the girl.

He was about to dwell on it further when there was a light rap on his door.

In a moment, the King was on his feet and at the heavy oak door, pulling it open, pleased to see Gauis standing before him. His old friend looked weary. Uther held his breath for a moment to school himself, not wanting to appear even too weak to one he knew so well.

"How is he, Gaius?" he asked, and despite his best efforts, he could hear the worry in his own voice.

"I believe he's stable for now, sire," the white haired man replied. "It was quite a challenge to…close the wound. He's lost a lot of blood and infection is most likely to be expected. He's going to need constant care for the next few days…"

"Whatever Arthur needs, you'll give him," Uther said sternly, his fear pushing anger to the front.

Gaius, as always, was unfazed and just bobbed his head. "I will require the use of Gwen and Merlin for the duration," he added.

Uther nodded. "Of course, they are to do anything you ask…but how helpful can the boy be…being injured?" he questioned and saw a fleeting look of surprise on Gaius' face, as if he hadn't thought the King had noticed that his charge had also been hurt in the fight.

"I have already set the bone, my Lord. He still has good use of one hand and can help in many ways. Gwen will sit with the Prince through the night tonight," he added. "I have given Arthur something to ensure he doesn't wake."

Again, the King nodded. He would most likely never say it out loud, but he could think of no one better to take care of Arthur than Gaius. Once, he and Gaius had been the closest of friends, but since Igraine's death and the purge... Uther let no one in that close. Despite their current displacement, he knew that the healer loved Arthur like a son. Gaius had seen to Arthur's health, well being, growth, and emotional needs since he'd been an infant. Uther certainly knew that Arthur had a soft spot for the older man as well. He could trust Gaius to do whatever it took to ensure that Arthur lived and was healthy again.

"Can I see him?" Uther asked before he could stop himself. Gaius frowned ever so slightly.

"Of course my Lord," he responded tiredly. "You will forgive me if I retire. I will be up very early to attend to the Prince, and Gwen has strict orders to come get me if she suspects anything is amiss."

"Of course, you need to be well rested," Uther agreed, knowing Gaius wouldn't leave Arthur's side if he didn't think the boy would be all right without him.

With a bow, Gaius stepped backwards, out of the room and disappeared. Uther waited a few minutes, and then set off for Arthur's rooms, the silence of the castle calming his nerves. He was happy that no one would observe his late night visit to his son.

It didn't take him long to reach Arthur's door, and he was just about to enter when he heard the soft lilt of a woman singing. For a moment, he froze, recognizing the lullaby instantly. Arthur's wet-nurse had sang it to him over and over after Igraine had died. Tears sprang unexpectedly to Uther's eyes and he realized that sound was coming from inside. Very softly, he pushed the door open, and slipped in, undetected, standing in the shadows.

Gwen was standing next to Arthur's bed, painstakingly cleansing his skin of dirt and blood as she sang, ever softly and gently, presumably to the Prince.

Uther knew he should reveal himself, but he couldn't. He was captivated – by the song or by her actions, he wasn't sure. So he stood there, in the shadows and watched, not realizing that he was about to learn something he certainly wasn't expecting.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3!

Just a couple of quick thoughts – I didn't want Uther to catch on too quickly, I always think he seems distracted to me. Ultimately though, as ugly as he's painted in the show, I feel like the writers try to show that although flawed, he is a very caring and loving person. He's shown a quite a few times his love for Arthur and Morgana, and the whole premise of the purge is that he was so heartbroken after losing Igraine that he just wanted revenge. I think he's a deeply caring man – and I hope to demonstrated that in this piece.

Your thoughts and reviews are always appreciated – they are what keep me moving on! So thank you!

Lady Winter

* * *

Uther leaned against a large hewn beam that stretched from the stone floor to the ceiling in Arthur's quarters. The deep shadows in the room hid his presence, and for a moment, he felt silly. After all, he was the King of Camelot – what was he doing hiding in the shadows?

He was eavesdropping. Not exactly kingly behavior.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to announce his presence. Uther wasn't exactly sure why, but he was afraid that if he did, he was going to miss something terribly important. So instead, he skulked in the shadows, watching Gwen tend to Arthur.

The handmaid, her purple dress now stained with blood, was studiously cleansing Uther's son of blood and dirt. Softly, she sung an old lullaby as she worked, whether to ease her own mind or the Prince's, Uther couldn't be sure.

With sure, even strokes, Gwen managed to return Arthur's skin to a more natural color, although he looked oddly pale from blood loss. Once finished with his torso, she moved onto his face, careful when she got to the badly bruised cheekbone that went up past his eye and into his hairline.

Uther shuddered inwardly, wondering what Arthur had been struck with to make such an angry looking bruise. Then, the servant girl was moving again, this time to carefully wash the blood from Arthur's hair, and Uther noted that Gaius had bandaged Arthur's forehead around the hairline, and just a tinge of red poked through the white linen strips.

It seemed to take forever as she cleaned his hair, but finally she had his blond hair free of blood and dirt as best she could, all the while continuing her soft singing. It was so soothing, that Uther leaned heavily against the wooden support, feeling his own exhaustion.

The stress of the day had taken its toll on him, and seeing Arthur lying there, so pale and so unmoving was eating away at his insides.

It seemed like he'd been standing there forever, watching Gwen go about her business and was just about to announce himself, realizing how silly it was to hide in the shadows, watching a servant do her job when she suddenly ceased singing.

Gwen let out a soft cry that sounded suspiciously like a sob and Uther stiffened immediately. Why in the world was the girl crying? Instantly, his eyes flashed to Arthur, and he stared for a long hard minute before being assured that his son's chest was still rising and falling – there seemed to be no change, so what was it that had her in tears?

For her part, Gwen was putting away the cloths that she had used to clean Arthur, but she was crying hard enough that Uther could see her shoulders shaking. Almost silently, the girl moved to the other side of Arthur's bed, and when she did, Uther could see tracks of tears wetting her face – a face that Uther noted for the first time was rather pretty. She had a fine bone structure and pretty eyes – but many of the servants were decent looking. Still, she was rather exotic.

The young woman picked up a jar of ointment from the table and perched lightly on the side of the bed, still crying in short sobs that were all but soundless.

Uther could only stand there, baffled by her strange behavior as she gently began rubbing the ointment onto the bruises that covered Arthur's torso and the small cuts and abrasions that were everywhere.

Uther observed her for a good five minutes while she cried silently before she moved to Arthur's face, and he had just about convinced himself that she was just upset about her sovereign's injury and the tears were tears of loyalty.

Then, unexpectedly, she spoke, her voice heavy with emotion.

"Oh Arthur…you promised me…" she managed to get out, her slim fingers touching his face, lovingly rubbing ointment on to the bruise with so much care it didn't even look painful.

Uther was startled at her use of Arthur's first name and the total lack of title. He gaped at her in the darkness, wondering just where she had gotten the audacity to call Arthur by his given name. In the past, he had never once heard her refer to any member of the court or his family in any other manner than in the appropriate respect filled way.

He even recalled Morgana trying to convince the girl to call her by her name – not My Lady, or Lady Morgana. Uther remembered preparing to scold Morgana and order the servant not to obey his ward's wishes, but Gwen had beaten him to the punch – she had politely refused with a curtsy, telling Morgana that wasn't proper for her to refer to her lady in such a fashion, as she was, after all, just a servant.

No one had the right to call Arthur by his given name except for Uther himself and Gaius, though on occasion, he thought he'd heard Merlin call his master by his name, although he was absolutely certain that Arthur had his way with dealing with the errant man-servant.

So what in the name of all that was holy had inspired the servant girl to blatantly call his son by his given name?

"You promised me…" she repeated, tearful still, touching his face intimately. "You swore you'd be careful."

Uther was laid bare with surprise. What had Arthur been doing promising a simple servant girl that he would be careful? What would even prompt him to do such a thing – to even speak to the girl?

He couldn't for the life of him come up with a good reason, but Gwen seemed obviously upset.

She sat for a while, crying, gently applying the medication to help heal Arthur's damaged skin, but then she spoke again.

"I won't give you any fancy speeches like last time," she announced resolutely through her tears, and Uther was instantly offended by her tone. Who did she think she was speaking to? That was the Crown Prince of Camelot that she was sassing! His ire began to rise, but still, he didn't move.

"I'm serious Arthur Pendragon. Don't expect me to tell you again that you're what Camelot needs and what a great king you're going to make. And I also refuse to tell you that since then, you've further improved. Oh no, I won't stroke your ego!" she said fiercely, staring down at him intently. "You can stop faking it now…I refuse to give you any compliments," she said, anger in her voice.

Uther went between being shocked and angry. How dare she speak to her Prince like that! There was a part of him that paused though, wondering if Arthur was faking for some reason, but the Prince didn't move a muscle.

The servant sat there, staring down at Arthur as if truly waiting for him to awaken. When he didn't, she burst into a further round of tears, and did something even more unexpected. She crawled onto the bed until she was right next to him and grasped his hand, holding it tightly to her chest and she kissed it even as her tears soaked his skin.

"Please, Arthur…" she begged, not even attempting to stop her sobs, and for all his bewilderment, Uther felt his chest tighten as the girl cried over his son.

"Arthur, I need you. I love you," she finally uttered, her head bowed and her words so slurred that Uther barely heard them. Still, when he realized what she'd said, he'd gaped into the dark.

Certainly just an hour or so ago, he'd thought that she maybe fancied Arthur, just as every other young woman that had a good set of eyes did – but this was different.

Guinevere had just professed her love for Arthur in no uncertain terms.

Uther was dumbfounded.

The girl in question was openly broken in front of him, pouring her soul out to an unconscious man. "Arthur? You promised. Please don't forget. You said that someday things would be different – that someday you and I…. There can't be a someday if you die now!" she declared, her voice hiccupping with hurt and tears.

And the King stood not ten feet away, absolutely rooted to the ground by her words and actions, as if he had become part of the stone floor.

Completely overwhelmed by what was going on, Uther could do nothing but stare in shock and try to dissemble what he had just witnessed and heard.

The servant Gwen was in love with his son, the Prince.

That in and of itself was slightly worrisome, but hardly something for Uther to concern himself with since she was a servant and Arthur was royalty.

But there was more to this story.

Guinevere's own words betrayed that. She had said that Arthur had insisted someday things would be different. The question was, just what it was that was going to be different. The whole situation implied that not only was the girl in love with Arthur, but he too was in love with her.

And somehow, Arthur thought that in time, it would be acceptable for a Prince to marry a common serving girl.

Rage boiled up within Uther, and it took all of his will power not to step into the light and yank the girl away from his son. All he could think about was the royal line, polluted by common blood. What could Arthur be thinking?

Just as soon as the rage appeared, it cooled instantly into ice. If Arthur thought he could betray Camelot and the throne like this…

Then, the ice melted almost instantly as Uther stared at his son's pale face.

He almost laughed.

What was he thinking? One serving girl's ramblings weren't enough to cause panic. It was late, she was obviously tired and emotionally distraught. If she did indeed feel strongly for Arthur, that might easily explain her words. Women could be easily led on.

Perhaps Arthur had offered her a smile, or a friendly word or two. And, he was always going on about the need to treat the people better – the need to make a better world for his subjects. Surely, that must have been what Gwen was rambling about when she'd said that Arthur had promised things would be different.

He almost laughed in relief at his reconciliation with her words. If one stopped to think about things, they always made sense.

Uther stepped backwards, ever so slightly, and slipped out the door he'd come through without alerting the serving girl to his presence, but outside in the hall, in the dark, he pressed himself up against the stone wall.

Was he just fooling himself? Had he just invented a likely story to protect himself from the truth? Was Arthur in love with a servant?

Air choked in Uther's throat as he felt the burning anger come back, but quickly, he suppressed it.

Many in the Kingdom thought he was rash – especially in the way he dealt with things that displeased him – which often included Arthur's actions.

But this was very serious. And Uther simply couldn't just pass judgment on his son for something he couldn't prove. He desperately wanted this to be a case of runaway imagination.

Uther pushed himself off the wall and set a brisk pace back to his room.

He wouldn't act. Not yet at least. Instead he would wait. And watch.

When Arthur woke up – if Arthur woke up – he would watch his son and the servant carefully and then determine what was going on.

"Yes," he breathed out, trying to relax, trying to make the sick feeling in his stomach go away. "Yes, I'll trust Arthur. Surely, I just need sleep and for my son to be well again."

Surely.


	4. Chapter 4

Alright – the next installment.

I can't tell all of you how much I appreciate your reviews. They inspire me to keep on, especially at this pace! I'm loving this story myself, so it's nice that others love it too.

I feel that Uther is a sadly misunderstood character, so hopefully this shows some depth.

Stay tuned for the next chapter – and as always, your thoughts are appreciated

Lady Winter

* * *

The next morning came before Uther was prepared for it. He was awoken by one of his servants at the usual time as the man crept through his chambers like a church mouse. All of his servants were terrified of him, which Uther normally found amusing, but this morning, he was simply irritated.

He'd slept little after witnessing the display the handmaiden had made over his son's injured body in the early hours of the morning as she'd tried to convince Arthur to live all the while revealing that if nothing else, she was in love with the Prince.

Uther had yet to decide if Arthur was in love with the girl or not, although he'd spent hours attempting to come up with reasonable explanations should he find this to be true.

The first thing that had popped into his mind was sorcery. Naturally. That would certainly explain it. Perhaps the servant was enchanted as well – it would certainly explain her deviant behavior.

Uther groaned with the thought. He shook his head, mumbling to himself, and it was enough to send his servant scurrying out in worry. The King ignored him, trying to force his mind to stop turning.

He had promised himself the night before that he would let Arthur's behavior be the judge of whether or not there was a problem – whether or not he had done something foolish like fall in love with a serving girl.

Until then, the first priority had to be Arthur's health. Just thinking about everything that he'd seen with Gwen the night before had proved to be incredibly distracting, and he'd all but forgotten that Arthur was seriously injured and perhaps even in mortal danger.

That was enough to push the worries of love affairs aside and drag the aging King out of bed. He found his breakfast waiting and ate his fill, his servant, Lionel, returning just in time to help him dress.

"Have you heard any news on the Prince?" Uther asked him quickly.

"No, my Lord. Although Gaius is with him now – Sir Leon asked me to let you know he'd seen the healer there very early this morning." Uther felt a spike of fear in his chest, wondering if Gaius was just about his duty early or if he'd been summoned to Arthur's side.

It took quite a bit of effort to school his features so that Lionel would not see his reaction.

"I see. Well, get yourself down to the kitchen and make sure a proper breakfast is brought up for Prince Arthur in case he is awake. That incompetent servant of his isn't bound to have done anything that useful – broken arm and all," he groused, trying to hide his worry in irritation and orders.

Lionel jumped like he always did and flew out of the room to do his master's bidding. Uther let a sigh of frustration escape when he was gone.

"Igraine…why aren't you here now? Your son needs you," he said softly, as if she could hear him. He missed her as if it was the day she died – the pain was still that real. If she had just been there now, he could rely on her to give Arthur all the love and support that he couldn't be seen to be giving.

People viewed him as ruthless and cold, a man not to be trifled with. If he let people know how much he loved, cared about, and worried for Arthur, they would perceive his weakness – and weaknesses were dangerous.

Under normal circumstances, Uther would never be ashamed to admit how much he loved Arthur – in his own way. But being a King wasn't normal – and if he were to show just how much of a weakness Arthur was to him, Arthur would be in more danger than he already was as sole heir to the throne of an enviable, prosperous kingdom.

Uther was afraid to admit to himself that if someone asked him to trade Camelot for Arthur; he would do as they asked. So from the day Arthur was born, Uther had distanced himself from the golden-haired child. No one would ever know the true depth of his attachment to his son – but sadly, that really mean no one – including Arthur himself.

It couldn't have been easy growing up without a mother while having a father that kept you at arm's length. Someday, he hoped that Arthur would understand what he had done and why, but pride would keep him from ever explaining it himself.

The King snatched up his cloak and headed for the door, and started off down the hall. He wanted to go straight to Arthur, but instead, he would go to the throne room first and meet with the Court as he always did after breakfast. Appearances had to be kept up and the Kingdom couldn't grind to a halt because the Prince had been injured. It certainly wasn't the first time, and Uther had to admit it would most likely not be the last.

He was almost to the main hallway when he heard the sound of running feet, and he turned, ready to reprimand whatever servant it was when he caught sight of Merlin, headed straight towards him.

"My lord!" the servant greeted, out of breath. His broken arm had been wrapped tightly by Gaius and splinted, and was pressed against his chest with a sling.

"What is it?" he asked, hot fire racing through his body as he worried at what the boy had to say.

"Gaius thought you might like an update on the Prince before you attended court as you would not be able to visit him until afterwards," Merlin explained in his usual bumbling quickness.

Uther almost sighed visibly with relief. Leave it to Gaius – the old physician understood things in the way that no others did. He understood Uther's precarious position, and although he'd made it quite clear that he often disagreed, he always did what was best for the kingdom.

"Well? Report!" Uther said.

Merlin flushed a little, and if Uther had stopped to think about it, the boy had looked annoyed.

"Prince Arthur has a very bad fever, but Gaius believes he can keep it in check. He wanted to let you know he'd be with the Prince all day and has asked several of the knights to continually bring cold water from the underground springs up to the Prince's rooms. He said he hoped you didn't mind and that he had chosen several….discreet knights."

Uther nodded. Gaius was most loyal.

"Of course, tell him that whatever Arthur needs, he's to get. My son…he hasn't woken?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

Merlin looked to be studying him carefully, but responded immediately.

"I'm afraid not, sire. He's very restless though, tossing and turning," the boy responded.

Uther swallowed hard. "Make sure you do as Gaius asks. While your master is injured, you are to be at Gaius' disposal," he said, although he knew the orders were unnecessary. Although sometimes appearing to be brash and incompetent, Merlin was more than loyal to Arthur, especially in times of need.

"Yes, sire. Of course," the boy said with a fierce determination; as if he could single handedly heal Arthur. Then, assuming himself to be dismissed, Merlin turned to leave.

Uther reached out a hand and grasped his sleeve, startling the dark haired servant, and he swung back, eyes wide.

"Is…the servant girl still there?" he asked, trying to sound casual and purposefully not calling her by her name.

Merlin looked surprised, his eyebrows shooting up in a way that made Uther feel like the servant was alarmed by something.

"Gwen? No…Gaius sent her to get some sleep," he explained quickly. "She was up all night with the Prince tending to him," he added in a somewhat defensive tone.

Uther realized that Merlin thought he was going to be angry that the girl wasn't there. The truth was, he was simply relieved.

"That's fine," he said dismissively and the servant visibly relaxed. Then, Uther thought to himself that if anyone knew anything about Gwen and Arthur being in love, it would be Merlin. "Merlin," he said slowly, amused that the young man jumped at the use of his first name.

"Yes, sire?" Merlin asked with a barely concealed gulp.

"Have you noticed anything odd going on between the Prince and that servant girl – Guinevere?" he asked, keeping his tone so that it sounded like he hadn't a care in the world. He pretended to look away as if he didn't really care about the answer to the question, but in reality, he watched Merlin like a hawk from the corner of his vision.

Merlin looked like he wanted to run. Like a frightened animal, cornered by a predator, but when he replied, his voice was remarkably even and he even managed to contort his facial features into a look of confusion.

"The Prince and Guinevere, my Lord? No, not at all – why do you ask?"

Uther inwardly cursed at the boy's talent of deception that almost rivaled his own – but Uther knew when someone was hiding something from him.

"I'd noticed that she seemed…quite concerned over the Prince's injury," Uther baited.

Merlin batted his eyelashes furiously, chasing away a panicked look that Uther barely had time to discern.

"Really, sire? I just thought that she was appropriately concerned for her sovereign," he managed to say, sounding perplexed, but Uther caught him flexing his hands into fists in a worried manner.

"Of course, you must be right," Uther allowed, and watched the boy relax. It was a sure tell that he'd been keeping something from his King.

Normally, Uther would have been angry – but now he was just worried. It was like a confirmation of his own fears. Merlin clearly knew something was going on, and that kind of confirmation was very scary.

"If you don't mind, Sire, I'd like to return to my master's side," Merlin said, playing the part of the devoted servant with accomplished ease.

Uther stared at him long and hard, and the boy wiggled a little. "Of course, and tell Gaius I want to be informed if Arthur's condition changes at all."

"Of course, my Lord," Merlin agreed, and then all but sprinted off.

Uther wanted to dwell further on Merlin's obvious deception, but he was already late to Court. Still, he couldn't help but think that the boy must be incredibly loyal to his son to risk the punishment for lying to the King.

The question was exactly what he'd lied about. Uther had a feeling that Merlin knew a lot more than he was letting on, but it could just be that he knew of Gwen's affections for Arthur and was trying to protect his friend.

Or, it could be worse – Merlin could know that the two young adults had formed some sort of relationship and was covering for both master and fellow servant. Arthur could have ordered him to keep quiet.

Uther shook his head, his stomach flip-flopping as he hurried into the throne room. As he was almost never late, everyone was milling about in confusion.

"Quiet!" he roared, his nerves getting the better of him, and instantly, the twittering and movement stopped. He stalked his way to the throne, not caring if he looked like an angry old man. He sat with a flourish and waved one hand at the crowd gathered before him.

"Before we begin, I'm sure many of you have heard that report that Prince Arthur was injured in his endeavor to further solidify the safety of Camelot. You may rest-assured that he skillfully handled the threat and had dealt with the mercenaries in a very final manner. As usual, the royal house has given you the protection you require," he said with all the pomp and attitude that he could muster. "The Prince is recovering from his injury and will be off his feet for a few days, but you should not worry. I'm sure he'll be up and about in no time. No one is to bother him while his injury heals and I will…update the kingdom on his recovery as I can."

There was a soft murmur that went through the crowd, no doubt as the nobles already began to gossip about Arthur. By afternoon, the lower town would be filled with rumors of Arthur's victory and injury.

Uther sighed in irritation, wanting to be up in his son's room – not pandering to his court, but instead, he loudly called for their session to begin.

It was hard to stay focused on the affairs of state when he was worried about his son and the mystery he had discovered.

For the first time since he'd heard Gwen admit her love for Arthur, he wondered exactly what he would do if Arthur truly as in love with her – and there was no other explanation besides love itself.

As soon as the question arose, Uther smothered it. He couldn't even start to think about that yet.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Uther was free of his royal obligations, and he made his way to Arthur's chambers as quickly as he could, though he took a roundabout route in the hopes that no one would observe him. He didn't want the people to worry that Arthur was too badly wounded, and if they saw their normally stoic King rushing to his son's side, the rumors would be like wild-fire and panic could easily take over.

Arthur was too well loved and respected - and there was the risk that if Arthur died, Uther might lose control of them. He'd never expected that to happen, and it had been a brutal realization. He hated to admit it, but he knew quite a few of them were holding out for "better days."

Finally, he reached Arthur's door just as Sir Leon arrived with a heavy bucket of ice-cold water. Startled, Uther found himself opening the door to admit the knight, who looked horribly embarrassed that the King had been forced to do something so mundane.

Uther chose not to say anything, and instead followed Leon in.

"Sire," Gaius greeted formally when he saw Uther behind the water-bearing knight.

For a moment, Uther didn't respond, his eyes darting to the large four posted bed and finding it empty. Panic gripped his heart, and only Leon's presence kept him from doing something rash, and he looked around in the room frantically for any sign of his son.

A moment later, he caught sight of the blond headed young man, tucked into his bathtub, eyes still closed, face unnaturally still. Arthur's cheeks were flushed bright pink, screaming of fever, but he looked cold in an odd way. Leon deposited the most recent bucket into the tub, then with a quick bow, disappeared out of the room.

Uther jolted slightly when Gaius, who seemed to have crossed the room in just a second, touched his arm.

"Sire? Are you alright?" he asked, one eyebrow quirking.

"Yes…me…" Uther hated how his voice faltered, and was glad that only Gaius and Merlin were in the room – and that Merlin seemed occupied by making sure his master was being taken care of.

"Arthur is fighting a high fever, my Lord," Gaius said, noting his distress and wisely choosing to be careful not to embarrass the King. "But it is taking a toll on his body. The infection is severe. I have had to reopen and close the wound twice since this morning," the healer said, worry heavy in his voice. "To keep the fever down, we must keep him cold, but the shock to his body is making him very weak."

Uther opened and closed his mouth twice, uncertain what to say. He'd been hoping for far better news.

"Don't lose hope, Uther," Gaius said, suddenly very quiet when he addressed Uther using his given name. He only did so on the rare occasion that he wanted to convey to Uther that whatever he was about to say could be trusted beyond doubt. "Arthur is a very strong young man. I have faith he will make it through this. If he gets through the night, tomorrow will be much better for him. Your son will live," Gaius said, making a promise both he and Uther knew he couldn't be sure to keep.

Still, Uther was placated. Gaius was rarely wrong in his predictions, and he knew Arthur's physical condition better than anyone.

Uther let out a long, slow sigh, feeling very weary.

"I can't lose him Gaius. You understand? He must live…I can't lose him like I lost Igraine," he said, surprised at how broken his voice sounded. He felt as he had before when Arthur had been bit by the Questing Beast – but this time, Gaius was giving him hope.

"Arthur has much to live for," Gaius reminded his sovereign, an odd look in his eye and Uther suddenly had a feeling that the healer was speaking about more than Arthur's eventual ascension to the throne. Instantly, he looked at his old friend suspiciously. If Gaius noticed, he did bother responding to his King's sudden change in mood. "Try not to worry," he said simply, and then moved off before Uther even had the nerve to question him.

Uther might have dwelt on the possible conspiracy if he hadn't been so worried about Arthur, so he let the matter dropped and went to see his son.

The crown prince was a sad, wet mess. His pale skin was puckered with heat and cold, warring against each other. His blond hair was plastered to his skin from the sweat of the fever, and his cheeks were flaming to the touch, but his lips were tinged oddly blue, as if he was freezing. In the water, the bruises and abrasions looked harsh and ugly. Uther shivered.

"It's time to get him out of there and wrap him up tight – and let him sweat the rest of it out," Gaius said, joining him after a few moments. "I can call Sir Leon to help if you'd like as Merlin only has one good arm…"

"No," Uther said quickly. "I'll do it," he explained, hoping that Gaius believed it was because he wanted the affair kept private. In all truth, he rarely had the chance to touch his son, and this would hopefully help him feel that Arthur was still alive.

Gaius nodded in a way that said Uther hadn't fooled him, but simply gave the King some instructions. Soon enough, Uther was pulling Arthur's cold body out of the bath, and Merlin and Gaius were there a moment later, quickly drying his skin and then starting to wrap him tightly.

"We don't want him thrashing and opening his wound," Gaius told Uther, despite the fact that he'd done something similar to Uther once, a long time ago after a particularly vicious battle wound.

Uther nodded absently and then bodily carried Arthur to the bed where he set him down with the care of carrying a priceless vase. Then, he and Gaius carefully piled on the blankets and furs that were normally reserved for winter, literally burying the Prince.

"Now what?" Uther asked, reaching out to touch his son's face, for once not caring if Gaius or Merlin saw the act of affection.

"Now we wait."


End file.
